


Feeling Cute

by Monsieur_Grenouille



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Patrick Stump, COVID-19, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Marry Me Patrick Stump, Pete Wentz is a Good Man, Peterick, Top Pete Wentz, Zoom Call
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:47:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24965467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsieur_Grenouille/pseuds/Monsieur_Grenouille
Summary: Patrick and Pete share the first Zoom call since they last saw each other. It follows just like any other Zoom call. Nothing too special.until the second chapter which is hella sexy.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Comments: 41
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ack so I don't like this but everyone's doing it so I felt like it'd be nice if I did. ENJOY

Pete waited patiently at his computer, staring at the waiting room screen for Zoom. The white screen seemed to be taunting him, as did the lack of Patrick’s face on the screen. He told  Patrick that he wanted to Zoom him at 3:00, and it was already 3:10. Growling, Pete picked up his phone and dialed Patrick. 

Patrick answered quickly. “Hello!” he chimed. 

Pete tried to keep his cool. “Where are you?” 

Patrick’s voice came in a deadpan. “That’s kind of a stupid question nowadays, you know? I’m at home. Watching  _ Tiger King _ . Like everyone else. Maybe next time, the more appropriate question would be  _ how are you doing  _ or  _ what are you up to _ ? Not to be that nitpicky, but it’s just something to consider.” Pete didn’t respond, shocked by his quiet friend’s sudden speech. Patrick laughed. “I’m just messing with you, Petey! I’m at home. What do you want to talk about?” 

Pete attempted at being passive-aggressive. “Maybe we could talk about our Zoom meeting. You know… the one at 3:00? I’ve been talking about it since Wednesday and I thought we really wanted to see each other.” Wedging the phone between his shoulder and his ear, Pete picked up a hairbrush and started putting his hair up into a man-bun. It’d gotten longer than he’d wanted it to, and it wasn’t making him any more attractive (in his own opinion). 

“Oh, Pete,” Patrick sighed, “You never sent me the link, so I thought you had called it off or something. I’m sorry about that.” 

Pete stopped mid-ponytail. “Send you a what now?” he coughed. 

Patrick snickered, “Don’t tell me you didn’t know how Zoom works, buddy.” 

Pete held his elastic ponytail holder between his teeth. “I know how it works,” he argued, “I just didn’t know you had to send a link.” 

“So how have you been getting into Zoom meetings lately?” 

“By clicking on a-- you know what, smart guy? How about you set up the meeting, huh? Let’s see how you fare with that.” Pete brought his hair through the tie, then did it again but stopped halfway. He let go and looked at himself in the mirror.  _ Not too bad _ , he thought to himself.  _ I mean, it’s not good, but at least it’s not bad. God, I need a spa. I bet Patrick knows some good spas around here; he looks amazing. I can’t wait till this whole thing is over so I can touch him again. Those arms and that face… I’ll touch it every day once I’m able. He’s such a beautiful man. Why didn’t I take him when I could’ve? I would’ve given him everything. Wine… soft pajamas… romantic times…  _

Romantic times? Since when was that on Pete’s mind? Sure, Patrick was a reasonably attractive man who was fun to be around. 

And he had those hips

And that mouth 

And his voice, which given his appearance shouldn’t be that broad and gorgeous. If anything, Patrick and Andy should switch voices. That would make the world seem a little more logical. Pete wanted the voice to whisper in his ear again, even if it was just dumb stuff like they always used to say. He doesn’t care what Patrick would say; he just wants to hear it. 

“Petey?” Patrick called through the phone, “Are you still there?” 

God, and the nickname “Petey.” It fell right off Patrick’s tongue all the time without a second thought. If only he knew what that nickname did to Pete’s mind. It sent off sparks every single time without effort. Pete shuddered, then shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Y-Yeah, I’m here.” 

“Are you okay? Do you need to call the Zoom meeting off? I’m just about to give you the link.” 

Pete cleared his throat. “I’m okay, Lunchbox. Send me the link. I want to see your beautiful face again and hear more than just that drop-dead gorgeous voice. I want to be yours again.” He whispered the last part through the phone. He could hear Patrick blushing. 

“Pete, I didn’t know we belonged to each other.” 

Pete chuckled, “That’s how I’ve always seen it. Send me the link, Pancake. I wanna see you.” He made kissy noises. Patrick laughed softly and suddenly Pete heard a buzz on his phone. He took that as the cue to say goodbye to Patrick and look at it. He clicks the link on accident before he had the chance to sit somewhere with lighting to make him look twice as attractive. Eh. If Patrick truly loves him, he’d talk to him while Pete was naked, covered ominously with pig’s blood, screeching in the middle of a lion pit without explanation. 

To be honest that seems kind of hot. 

Pete is confronted by Patrick’s smiling face bursting from the screen, his hair fluffed into the spikes he had during Soul Punk. “Why hello there, old man!” Patrick beamed, giving him the cutest little wave. “I missed you! I see you kept the long hair?” 

Pete reached up to touch his man-bun. “Yeah… I can’t get into a stylist right now, so it’s just growing. I missed you too. Is there anything you can sing for me? It could be like old times, where I tackle you, tell you I’m dead, and then I don’t get off of you until you sing me something.” 

Patrick smiled, chuckling softly, “I remember that, yeah. I haven’t really been working on anything new, lyric-wise. I’ve got a new melody or two stashed somewhere in GarageBand.” 

Pete’s face lit up into a childish grin. “Can I hear it?” he asked eagerly. 

Patrick blushed. “It’s not that good, honestly. It was just something to pass the time while I’m cooped up here. I don’t know how to share the screen, so I’ll just play some of it on the good old-fashioned guitar.” He twisted his back awkwardly in his chair to reach his guitar, emitting a pained groan. “I swear my back gets worse every day,” he chuckled once his guitar was tucked beneath one arm and his fingers were secured around the neck. 

Pete leaned closer to the screen. He missed Patrick’s guitar skills so much that he’d been listening to Fall Out Boy songs just to hear him again. Sure, they’d been texting and calling, but the guitar hadn’t shown up until now. “What’re you going to play for me now?” Pete asked. 

Patrick stuttered, “I-It doesn’t have a name. I just scribbled it down one day and now it’s here.” 

Pete sighed contentedly, “Well, I’m ready when you are, Sweetheart.” 

The singer seemed to be caught off-guard by the nickname but proceeded to strum and finger at his guitar. No noise came from his lips (a disappointment to Pete, honestly) but the talent on his guitar made up for it. Pete closed his eyes and relaxed on his bed, tilting his head against the wooden headboard to listen. He hoped that he could save this call in a complete video to listen to over and over until he gets dizzy. 

The music stirred in his mind, echoing and creating shapes and colors. It was like when he used to get hallucinations during his anxiety attacks, but less frightening and more comforting. A pleasant buzzing sensation came to his fingertips, like the aftermath of a successful concert. It was almost overwhelming. “Oh God…” he exhaled. It came out as more of a moan, which was completely involuntary and embarrassing. Also, it was louder than he thought. 

Patrick’s music came to a halt. He gazed at Pete through the monitor with a worried expression. “Are you okay?” he asked nervously. 

Pete’s eyes fluttered open. He stared back at the singer, flustered and almost speechless. “I… um… it sounds great, Patrick!” 

Patrick shook his head dismissively. “We need to backtrack, Pete. What was that noise for? Are you in pain?” 

Pete tittered for a few moments. He really didn’t know why he had made that noise. “I… um… well, the thing is… I really liked it, and I guess that it had some  _ effect  _ on me. It made me happy.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not that attractive, is it?” 

Patrick shrugged. “I thought it was kind of hot, but then again I live alone for a reason.” 

They stared at each other for at least three minutes after that, not saying anything. Pete felt lost in Patrick’s baby blue eyes, swimming in the golden/green flecks surrounding his pupils. His lips were pretty pale pink, the way they always used to be. His skin was still pale, which was good because it showed he hadn’t been outside in the sun recently. Lastly, he was in his pajamas, the way he’d always joked about when proposing working from home. 

Patrick looked speechless, like a deer caught in headlights. “I really wish I could meet with you again,” he admitted, “Like in person.” 

Pete sighed, “What could we do that’s different than what we’re doing now? We can’t get within six feet, which is longer than either of us laying down on the ground. It’s equivalent to 1 and 7/65 Patrick Stumps laying down flat.” 

“That’s how you measure things now?” 

“I’ve also started measuring time in increments of 22 minutes since that’s the length of an average episode of The Office.” 

“I’ve been doing that for a long time,” Patrick laughed half-heartedly. “I guess we wouldn’t be able to do much more than this, whether we met up in your driveway or mine. It’d be completely unsanitary to hug you.” 

“And even worse, I’d be too tempted to kiss you.” 

Patrick blushed, “Is that the first thing you’ll do once this is all over?” he bit his lip hopefully. 

Pete folded his hands and smiled. “That, and wearing clothes below the waist. With all these Zoom calls, I’ve been worried I might drop my phone and start 2005 all over again.” 

Patrick giggled, “You’re not even wearing boxers?” 

“What’s the need for boxers when you can clearly see everything with them on?” 

“Way to flatter yourself, Wentz.” Patrick rolled his eyes dramatically. “At least I’m wearing my pajamas.” He lowered his computer to show off his fleece Batman pajama pants. They looked cozy like Pete could spend hours petting them and stroking them to feel the fabric (and Patrick’s beautiful legs). 

Pete sighed, “It’s a shame you have to wear those. Why don’t you walk around town in short shorts? It would make the world a better place. You have beautiful calves, darling.” 

Patrick’s cheeks burned a deeper pink as he struggled to hide his smile. “What would my self-confidence do without you, Pete?” he murmured. 

Pete wanted to reach through the screen, cup Patrick’s face in his hands, and draw him in for a deep and passionate kiss. That was the only thing that could’ve made the moment more magical. “I don’t know,” he said, “All I know is that you’d have no one to point out these things you should already know. Like how beautiful your eyes are, and your stunning voice, and when you wear those gorgeous hats even though your haircut is just the cutest thing. Whether you let your hair fly in random directions or if your hat mattes it down, you’re just the cutest thing. I love you. No one sees you the way I do, but that needs to change. You can start changing it by seeing it, too. I didn’t call you so we could just talk about music. If I was going to do that, I would’ve copied the link and sent it to Andy and Joe. I wanted to call so that we could focus on each other and how beautiful you are. Why don’t you see how gorgeous you are?” 

Patrick was blushing harder than ever. Tears welled up in his eyes as he stared at Pete and listened to his encouragement. “I… I don’t know,” he said, “It’s a known fact that everyone sees themselves differently than everyone sees them, so maybe I am as pretty as you make me up to be. Maybe I do have pretty eyes and a pretty voice and maybe my hair looks good no matter what I do. I don’t look good in the mirror, and that’s just my observation.” Tears leaked from his eyes, his voice was broken. 

Pete gave a sympathetic look. “What makes you feel good about yourself, Patrick? When do you feel cute?” 

Patrick seemed to shrink down in his chair. “I… um… I don’t feel cute ever. I feel good about myself when I’m playing music. That’s kind of why I’m a singer. I also feel good like I’m acting. I’ve always wanted to be on Broadway, you know? That way, I could sing and act at the same time.” 

“You’d look good on Broadway. What do you want to do to feel cute right now?” 

Patrick took a look around his room. “I… uh… I see a sweater hanging in my closet. I could wear that. It’s pink and has big sleeves. I also have a small blue bow I could put in my hair. Those clothes make me feel adorable.” 

Pete leaned his chin on his knuckles. He didn’t know this. “I’d love to see that.” 

Patrick hid his eyes. “Don’t fetishize it, Pete. They’re just my clothes.” He turned his camera off but kept his microphone on. Pete talked to him during the whole thing about how he wasn’t fetishizing anything. 

“I’m just saying it would be a cute look for you. Looking like a sweet child. I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing.” 

“It’s not a  _ sort of thing _ , Pete. It’s just how I like to dress sometimes when I’m sad.” His face flashed back on screen, with a pink sweater on his shoulders and a baby blue bow clipped into his hair. He waved back at Pete excitedly, sweater paws covering his palms. He looked at least 25 now. “Like it?” he asked energetically, “I think it’s cute.” 

Pete couldn’t focus. “That’s adorable. I want to cradle you in my arms with that outfit on. You look like such a soft little boy.” 

Patrick beamed at him like an angel. “It’ll be awesome once this is over so that you can actually do that. I’d sing you to sleep while you hold me. Maybe I’ll bring this outfit on tour so that we can cuddle and feel cute while Joe and Andy are off doing something else. How does that sound?” 

Pete licked his lips teasingly. “Sounds perfect. What do you want to do while you’re feeling cute? I have about an hour before I Zoom my child.” 

Patrick bit his lip. “I’m feeling a little confident,” he said, a childish glimmer in his eye. “What if I play a few more songs for you? Maybe a little throwback Fall Out Boy.” 

Pete smirked, “With your voice?” 

Patrick blushed and smiled, remembering what happened just fifteen minutes ago. “Y-Yeah,” he agreed, picking up his guitar pick. “With voice.” 


	2. Feeling Sexy (Bonus Feature: SEX!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since it was requested by Marcela, here's the second chapter, which makes THE WHOLE WORK completely NSFW and will probably get more hits because people don't often come to ao3 for some lighthearted fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AS AN ASEXUAL MINOR, I HAVE NEVER HAD SEX. BUT I HAVE SEEN GAY P*RN AND READ FAR TOO MANY PETERICK SMUTS, SO THIS IS THE PRODUCT OF WHAT I HAVE READ. PLEASE DO NOT CRITIQUE THIS BECAUSE HONESTLY I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING.

Once Pete found out on the news that the virus was completely over, he became ecstatic from head to toe. He went outside (keeping his mask in his pocket), and took a deep breath of Earth's newly cleaned air. "Perfect," he whispered to himself. He took a brief stroll around his neighborhood, smiling at anyone who had heard the news. He almost went to the gas station, then realized he wasn't going to be stupid, even if he had freedom. 

Later, he sat on his couch and remembered the Zoom conversation he had with Patrick that one time. The first thing to do after quarantine? Put on pants. Since that had been accomplished, the next thing to do was to kiss Patrick. The thought made him shiver with guilt. Patrick probably doesn't remember that conversation. Either way, Pete had a plan. Kisses can't start themselves, can they? He pulled out his phone and dialed Patrick. 

Patrick picked up and Pete could hear him sigh with disgrace from the other end. "It's nine in the morning," he said without a drop of happiness in his voice. "Who is this, anyway?" 

Pete chuckled, "Remember that sexy guy you met through a friend 19 years ago? He's 5'7", can't sing, and gay? This is him." 

"Give me a name, goddamnit. I just woke up and I-- Pete?" Patrick's voice came to a halt. "H-Hi, Pete." 

Pete leaned back in his chair and smirked. "How's it going?" 

"I literally just said I've been up for five minutes. What do you want?" He cleared his throat and rustling noises were made from his bedroom. 

Pete combed his fingers through his hair. "I was wondering if you wanted to kiss." 

Patrick stuttered aimlessly before going dead quiet. A few seconds later, Pete heard him whisper, "What?" 

Pete laughed, "Lockdown is over and I'm horny. I wanna kiss you until you can't breathe while you're wearing your pretty pink sweater and bow. You know, it's just an idea based on something you said you wanted to do once. First thing after lockdown, hm?" 

Patrick chuckled uncomfortably, "I remember that. When do you want to do this? I mean, we won't kiss the whole time we're seeing each other, but we have to meet up somewhere to do it." 

"My house," said Pete, "It seems safest to do it there. When can you get here?" 

Patrick replied, "I'm getting dressed now. I'm putting on the cute outfit with some blue jeans." 

"Do you have a skirt?" 

"Uh... somewhere?" 

"Wear that." Pete reached down to put a hand under the waistband of his pants, starting to stroke his cock gently. He jacked off to the image of Patrick wearing a short skirt that curves beautifully around his ass, showing off all the right things. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the armrest of the couch. He wasn't going to say it out loud, but he was definitely going to try to do more than kiss Patrick. He wanted the whole package. 

Patrick's voice came back to snap him out of his daydream. "I found a skirt. I don't see why you want me to wear it. I'm very self-conscious and this wouldn't look good on me, considering I'm not exactly the fittest guy you could get. I just put it on and I don't think you'd like it. It's very short, to the point I'm convinced it's just a belt with tassels. I mean, It goes past my underwear, but it's still revealing. It's too slutty, Pete. You'd be able to see my thighs if I sat down and ugh. Please don't make me wear this if you're going to laugh at it." 

Pete sighed, "Baby if I'm going to humiliate you, it would be because you asked me to. I want to see you all slutty and dressed up for me. I'll wear whatever you want for you. Any suit or shirt or... nothing at all." he whispered the last part seductively. Patrick gasped quickly into the receiver. Pete snickered, "Did I catch you off guard, sweetheart?" 

"I'm always on guard. That was just hot." 

"Where are you?" Pete felt impatient. He didn't want to boss Patrick around or anything, but he liked how they were talking right then. He wished he could see Patrick's face, kiss his lips, and fuck his ass, and at this point, it doesn't have to be in that order. 

Patrick replied, "I'm on my way, Petey. I'm wearing what you wanted. I wish the skirt was longer. I hope you don't mind how slutty it is."

Pete growled, "I've always wanted to see you in a slutty skirt. That bow in your hair probably accents your eyes, doesn't it?" 

Patrick whimpered, "I'm trying to drive, Pete. Please either hang up or be pleasant." 

"I'm being pleasant. Are you filled with pleasure?" he teased, "Do you feel happy right now because of me? Excited? Lusted?" 

Patrick whined, his voice strained, "Pete, I don't like phone sex. I'm trying to drive and you're being sexy and I don't like it. Please stop until I get to your house." 

Pete frowned but accepted Patrick's limits. "Okay, baby. I'll see you soon." He made kissy noises before hanging up and waiting in silence for the next ten minutes. He heard a ring at his doorbell and almost sprinted to it, stopping to check his hair and general self. Feeling great, he opened the door and pulled Patrick inside without saying anything. He slammed the door behind them. Patrick was naturally pressed up against his chest, held firmly by Pete's arm behind him. His eyes were wide and terrified.

"Hi, Pete," he squeaked, "Why are you doing this so soon?" He bit his lip cutely. His hair would've fallen in front of his eyes if not held back by the baby blue bow. Pete's eyes drifted to it for a second. It looked so natural on Patrick. Pete's mouth began to salivate as he looked down at the rest of the outfit, getting a major load of Patrick's short white skirt. The skirt barely covered his thighs, just like he had said on the phone. His shoes were normal, but that's okay. He wouldn't need them soon. 

"Hey yourself," Pete whispered, "I missed you." 

"I missed you too, but this is just dramatic. Can't we just kiss and be done with that part?" 

"You act so professionally. You're putting on your own little show with that outfit, and I say it's only fair if I get some of the action." Pete pressed a lazy kiss to Patrick's cheekbone. "Or would you rather just awkwardly touch lips and pretend it never happened, and then you just so happen to be wearing a little skirt you knew I wanted to see?" He brushed his fingertips on Patrick's thigh. 

Patrick blushed, "Please just kiss me. You're turning me into a mess."

Pete smiled, "Of course, Sweetheart." He nuzzled his lover a few times before tilting his head and finally connecting their lips. It was like a piece of glass had finally been broken, letting everything be free. Pete groaned as Patrick's tongue pushed past his teeth. He backed up against the wall, grasping Patrick's ass. Patrick made a surprised "Mphf~" noise at the touch. He moaned later, trying to get as much of Pete's hands as he could. 

"Pete... god, Pete... touch me." He panted softly against his boyfriend's mouth. Pete smiled as he broke off and led Patrick by hand to his room. He closed the door and took off his shirt. Patrick bit his lip and sat on the bed. His hands folded neatly in his lap. He was blushing harder than ever and hiding his adorable smile. He looked like a toddler. "You said that you hadn't worn boxers in a long time," he barely whispered, "Are you wearing them now?" 

Pete stopped in the middle of unzipping his jeans to strut over to Patrick and get under the covers, positioning himself to hover over Patrick. His arms placed themselves on either side of Patrick's shoulders. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he teased as he nuzzled Patrick's pink sweater. "You look so pretty in your clothes, Sugar." 

Patrick shuddered at the praise and picked at Pete's pants. His hands finally made through, hitting fresh fabric. "Well, would you look at that?" he chuckled breathlessly, "Someone's giving me an extra layer to work through. I can feel the erection, though. It's huge." 

Pete bit down on Patrick's lip. "Did you expect anything else?" he helped guide the singer's hands down his boxers to grasp the hard-on. "There," he whispered, "Do you like that?" 

Patrick whimpered and nodded. He stroked gently and added pressure just enough to make Pete even harder. He couldn't help but want some of it to happen to himself, so he sucked Pete's neck and tried to sell himself. "I feel so whorish," he slurred, "Like you could literally do anything and I'd just come all over myself." He kissed up Pete's jaw happily. "I love you so much, Petey." 

Pete kissed Patrick's temple. "I love you too, soft boy." He took Patrick's arms away from his crotch and helped him get out of his own clothes. He was sad to see the skirt go, but he had to. "Maybe you should've sat on my lap so I could've enjoyed that skirt," he sighed. "Hindsight is a bitch." he brushed his thumb over Patrick's lips. 

Patrick begged softly for Pete to help him. "P-Pete... fuck me. Please." He clawed at Pete's chest. "I can't take it. Ah~" 

"You can take it," Pete hushed, "You can take it, baby boy. That's why you're here, right? To take all of it?" 

Patrick's breath came in puffy clouds of air. "Ungh... where's the lube?" he gripped Pete's wrists. "We can't do it if we don't have a lubricant. I'm too sensitive." His eyes drifted around the room. Pete kissed his neck and reached into a side drawer. Patrick smiled, his chest rising and falling heavily. Pete pulled out some lubricant and a condom, then began prepping his boyfriend. Patrick's soft mewling gave off a cautionary tone, but he didn't say anything. Pete stopped before pushing a finger into Patrick's hole. 

"You're nervous?" he whispered. 

Patrick bit his lip. "No," he said. 

Pete sighed, "You're such a bad liar. What're you afraid of?" 

Patrick kept mewling and covered his eyes with his wrist. "Nothing. Just get me through this." 

"Patrick, talk to me." 

"No!" 

"Why?" Pete furrowed his eyebrows. "I can't do anything until you talk to me, Trick." 

Patrick groaned and tore his wrist off his eyes to stare into Pete and confess, "I've never done it with a guy before! I don't know how it's going to feel, and I feel like I'm going to disappoint you more than any other cheap slut." He braces himself for no reason. "I really wanna get fucked by you since I've been achingly horny all quarantine and I'm in love with you. Please just do what you need to do." 

Pete sighed again and moved his head down to kiss Patrick's face, neck, and chest. "Aww, Sweetheart. You're not cheap at all. You're an angel. My slutty little angel." 

"I love being called a slut by you."

Pete caressed Patrick's bare sides. "I know you do. You okay, now? It's going to feel weird when I push my finger in, but that's in preparation for the real thing, okay? If you ever get uncomfortable, say _Chicago_ and I will stop whatever I'm doing and cuddle you. You will be praised no matter what, Sugarcube." He kissed Patrick's nose. Patrick smiled and nodded. 

"Okay. Okay. I'm ready. I'm ready for you, Petey." 

Pete whispered more encouragement as he slipped in his finger. Patrick whined and waited to adjust before begging for another. Pete complied, nibbling on his ear as he did so. Patrick forced himself down further on Pete's fingers. Pete smiled, "You like that?" he chuckled. 

Patrick nodded. "I'm ready." 

"No, you're not. I have to do something first." Pete moved around his fingers, exploring Patrick's asshole. He made Patrick gasp and sigh with pleasure, but nothing compared to the shocked scream when Pete grazed his prostate. 

"Pete! Ah~ don't make me come yet." he commanded, "I want the real thing before I can come." 

Pete gave Patrick a loving kiss. "I used to be the same way," he whispered, "Back when I was in college, people would fuck me at parties, and I never wanted to come on someone's face or hand." He laughed with the memory. 

Patrick chuckled nervously, "That's great, Pete, but my dick really hurts and if you could just stuff me with your cock now, that would be great." He made a pained expression. 

Pete hummed. "Yeah, that sounds good." He angled himself over his boyfriend's hole and pushed in with a groan. "That's hot," he panted, "You are extremely tight." 

Patrick moaned, "It hurts but in a good way. Burns." He scrunched his face up with tension. "Ah... fuck. Just start moving and then we'll see if it goes away, huh? That might do something good for all of us." 

Pete nodded and dragged out slowly, then pushed back in with the force of a thousand storms. Patrick was so fucking tight. So warm and tight; almost like a compact furnace. "Good boy," he praised, "Taking this like a champion." He pulled back and thrust again. 

"Faster," Patrick whined, "It still hurts when you're going this slow." 

Pete huffed and picked up the pace, feeling Patrick's internal structure rub against his length. The singer's eyes had rolled back, his mouth hung open breathlessly. "Fuck..." the bassist whispered under his breath. "That's sexy." 

Patrick snatched a pillow and covered his face. He screamed into it. "HOLY SHIT--" 

Pete looked down. Patrick hadn't come yet, so what was-- oh. Pete was repetitively hitting Patrick's pleasure spot without noticing. Patrick kept babbling and whining curses into the pillow, but they were clear as water anyway. He wanted Pete to screw him harder. Harder and faster. Pete tried to do that. Patrick started sobbing into the pillow, continuing to scream about how it felt. 

"I'm gonna die," he sobbed, "Once this is done, I'm gonna pass out. Will you cuddle me once this is done?" 

"Of course, honey," Pete panted, feeling his climax get closer and closer. "I'm about to come," he warned, "Are you okay?" 

Patrick whined, "You're killing me, Pete." He grasped Pete's wrists to hold on. Pete gave his lover a few more bits of praise before relaxing, his climax flooding Patrick's space. "Oh GOD!" exclaimed Patrick as his own ejaculation spilled all over his and Pete's chests. It was strong and plentiful, meaning he was blissed out. Pete flopped next to him on the bed, scooping him into his arms for comfort. The sheets carved out their shapes, resembling Pete's strong masculine figure and Patrick's soft and graceful shape. 

"Patrick, are you awake?" Pete kissed his lover on the cheek. Patrick flipped around on the bed to touch noses with Pete. They were both smiling like idiots. 

"You were really good," the younger male blushed and nuzzled against Pete. 

Pete kissed him on the forehead. He can't get enough of this small man's body. He has to kiss it if he's too tired to do anything else. "You were just a little angel. So soft and sweet, making sounds I've never heard anywhere else. I'd kill to have that again someday." 

Patrick giggled and kissed Pete's soft lips again. "I want to make out again later," he said, "It's only like... 10:30 am. We have all day. If we feel up to it at noon, maybe we can try again." He was still panting softly, but the afterglow was hitting him like some drug. "God, I love you." he beamed. 

Pete returned the kiss with as much passion as he could muster. "I love you too," he romanced, "but I'm not God." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HOPE THIS WAS VIVID ENOUGH.

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not think it would be adorable if Patrick dressed like that.


End file.
